“One must expect to take a few losses when one is playing for important stakes.”
“There are many men far wealthier than you who have brought their families to ruin with that attitude.”
“Say it, damn you. Say the words, Lucas. Tell me to my face I no longer have any control over my inheritance.”
Lucas gave up trying to salvage the situation. “Vicky, I thought I had made it clear that just because I choose to indulge you in some of your wilder notions, it does not mean I will allow you to manipulate me whenever you wish. One way or another you will learn that.”
“Say it, Lucas.” Her eyes continued to challenge him boldly and her smile was deliberately taunting.
Lucas swore very softly. “Very well, madam, since you are obviously determined to force this issue into a full-scale battle, I will give you what you seem to be looking for, namely an opponent. You are hereby forbidden to invest in the colliery project. I shall instruct your bankers that you are to be given a small quarterly allowance and nothing more unless I personally authorize it.”
She stared at him in stunned amazement, clearly shocked by the extent of his retaliation. “I do not believe this. You cannot possibly mean what you say. To forbid me to invest in the coal-mining project is one thing, but to forbid me any use of my money at all is … is unbelievable.”
Lucas leaned back in his chair and studied her dispassionately. She really did look taken aback. This was obviously not the outcome she had expected when she had begun the skirmish.
“I can understand your surprise,” he said gently. “I am quite certain that when you walked in here a few minutes ago, you were fairly sure you would walk out the victor. You are too shrewd to have launched the assault without first being convinced you stood a good chance of winning. But you underestimated me, my dear, and I fear you will persist in losing these skirmishes if you do not stop doing that. A good field marshal never makes the mistake of underestimating her opponent.”
“You speak as if we are on a battlefield.”
Lucas nodded bleakly. “I fear that is precisely the situation you have created.”
“And to think I actually thought you were going to make a tolerable husband after all.” She whirled around and flew to the door. Not pausing to give him a chance to get there ahead of her, she yanked it open.
“Where do you think you are going, Vicky?”
“Out.” Her smile could have separated him from his skin.
“Vicky, if you think you can fly off in a tantrum and go looking for some mischief, you are sadly mistaken.”
“Have no fear, my lord, I shall be in quite unexceptional company. I am attending a meeting at the vicar’s. I’ll wager that even you, with your newfound proper, conservative airs and priggish ways, cannot find anything to say against my spending the afternoon in such a gathering.”
“What sort of society is holding this meeting?”
“One devoted to the investigation of curious matters,” she retorted loftily.
“I might be able to find time to accompany you,” he began carefully.
“Good gracious, Lucas, that is quite impossible. I am certain you are far too busy to join me. You have so many thoughtful, important decisions to make right here.” She went out the door, slamming it pointedly behind her.
Lucas winced as the lamps shivered under the impact. He sat in silence for a moment and then got deliberately to his feet to cross the room and pour himself a glass of brandy.
He stood at the window to drink it and told himself morosely that it was going to be a long campaign. He had sadly deluded himself when he had decided the difficult part would be over once he got her to marry him. It was obvious the truly hard work came after the wedding.
Good God. Had he really turned a touch priggish under the weight of his newfound responsibilities? He wondered.
Victoria was still fuming by the time she reached the comfortable home of the vicar and his wife. But she managed a charming smile as she was shown into a pleasant, sunny room full of various members of the local gentry and their ladies. The welcome was gratifyingly warm and her ill humor faded quickly.
“Welcome to our little society meeting, Lady Stonevale. We have all been concentrating our attentions of late on trying to prepare an improved remedy for gout and rheumatic pains,” Mrs. Worth explained after the introductions had been made. She waved to a table full of small glasses. Each contained a liquid. “Medicinal herbs and plants are a great interest for most of us. Sir Alfred, here, for example, is quite hopeful of claiming the Society of Arts’ prize for discovering a means of increasing opium-poppy production in England. He has obtained a very high-quality product, indeed.”
“How exciting,” Victoria said. “You should feel quite proud of yourself, Sir Alfred.”
Sir Alfred blushed modestly.
“And Dr. Thornby over there has been experimenting with various tinctures and decoctions that combine alcohol and other ingredients such as liquorice, rhubarb, and camomile.”
It was Dr. Thornby’s turn to be flushed with pride.
“Fascinating,” Victoria murmured, examining the various glasses. “My aunt and I have attended many medical lectures on such matters. Have you had much success?”
“As you know,” Dr. Thornby began with barely contained enthusiasm, “the combination of alcohol and opium in laudanum is quite effective for pain relief but tends to make the sufferer extremely drowsy. This is fine for certain ailments but not for more chronic problems such as gout or rheumatic pains or certain, ahem, women’s ailments. Something is needed for these which brings relief but does not induce sleep.”
“You want a pain-relieving concoction that will allow the sufferer to go about his daily routine,” Victoria said with a quick nod of understanding. “Very important research. Very important, indeed.”
“The farmers and laborers in my area of the country have achieved some success on their own through trial and error,” remarked a plump gentleman in the corner. “They’ve developed some excellent remedies.”
“The problem,” said another, “is lack of standardization and analysis. Every family has its own remedies of course, but each recipe has been handed down for generations and is the result of tradition and folklore rather than proper scientific principles and study. Every housewife has her particular recipe for cough syrup, for example, but no two mixtures are quite the same.”
“Obviously there are several aspects of the problem to be studied,” Victoria noted.
“Quite true.” Dr. Thornby approached the table. “But there is only one scientific approach to the problem. We must conduct an experiment and take careful notes. Each of these glasses contains a particular remedy. Our goal today is to see which of them creates an immediately soothing effect without bringing on sleep.”
“What about the actual relief of pain?” Victoria asked with deep interest. “How will you measure that? I am not, myself, suffering even a headache at the moment.”
“We will have to do that in a second phase of the experiment,” the vicar conceded. “Difficult to find five or ten people all having an attack of the gout or a headache at the same time, I’m afraid.”
“As it happens,” Mrs. Worth said helpfully, “I have a touch of rheumatic pain this afternoon.”
“And my gout’s been flaring up,” another member of the group offered.
“I have been suffering from toothache all day,” declared an elderly gentleman.
“I do believe I have a headache,” Lady Alice volunteered.
The vicar brightened, as did Dr. Thornby and Sir Alfred.
“Excellent, excellent. We may be able to accomplish both phases of the experiment today.” Sir Alfred’s glance was both shy and distinctly hopeful as he looked at Victoria. “Understand you have an interest in this sort of thing, Lady Stonevale. Would you care to join us in our testing or would you prefer to observe?”
“Heavens, it is always far more interesting to participate in an experiment than t
o merely observe it. I should greatly enjoy helping you test your concoctions. It should prove most enlightening.”
Sir Alfred was much flattered, as was everyone else in the room. Dr. Thornby stepped forward to take charge again. “Now then, I shall put the notebook here on the table and each of us must write a clear, concise description of our sensations as we proceed from glass to glass. I propose we each start with straight brandy first and record our reactions to it before we move on to the various tonic mixtures.”
“Yes, of course,” the vicar exclaimed. “We need to be able to judge the differences between the pure spirits and the spirits infused with other ingredients.
Very clever of you, Thornby.”
Victoria frowned consideringly as a thought struck her. “Might it not be best if at least one of us stayed with the pure spirits for the entire experiment? That way the reactions of those using the various concoctions can be judged against the use of spirits alone at every point.”
There were several immediate nods of approval.
“Brilliant idea, your ladyship,” Sir Alfred said. “You are obviously quite conversant with such scientific investigation techniques.”
“I have had some experience,” Victoria admitted modestly. “As it was my idea and as I have no particular physical complaint to alleviate this afternoon, I shall volunteer to stick with the spirits alone.”
“Very helpful of you, Lady Stonevale. Very helpful, indeed,” Dr. Thornby said. “Let us begin.” He graciously extended a glass of brandy to Victoria.
Lucas was appalled at the sight that greeted him that afternoon when he returned from a visit to one of his tenants. A very unsteady Victoria was being assisted up the front steps by her maid and two very concerned footmen. Lucas threw his horse’s reins at the groom and hurried forward.
“My God, what is the matter here? Are you ill, Vicky?” He peered at her with deep concern.
“Oh, hello, Lucas.” She turned a beatific smile upon him and nearly lost her balance in the process. “Did you enjoy being a cautious, conservative prig all day? I have spent my time this afternoon in a far more useful fashion. I have been conducting a little …” She paused to burp discreetly. “A little experiment.”
A spicy cloud of brandy fumes wafted past Lucas’s nose. He glared at the anxious maid as the truth dawned on him. “I will take care of her ladyship,” he announced in a voice laced with steel.
“Yes, my lord. I’ll run have cook prepare some nice tea for her ladyship.”
“Don’t bother,” Lucas growled as he caught Victoria around the waist.
He got her past the anxious gazes of the butler, two more footmen, and a couple of housemaids, and finally, he got her up the stairs and into bed. As she sprawled gracefully back on her pillows, Victoria smiled once more and regarded him with a dreamy gaze.
“Lucas, dear, you really must learn not to look so frightfully menacing. You do have a nasty habit of glaring, you know.”
“What the devil have you been drinking?”
She frowned. “Let me see. Brandy, for the most part, I believe. Did I explain about the experiment?”
“Not precisely, but we can go into the details later.”
“Oh, dear, does that mean another lecture?”
“Yes, I am afraid it does, Vicky,” Lucas said grimly. “I will tolerate a great deal from you, my dear, but I will not have you coming home foxed in the middle of the afternoon, and that is final.”
“I believe you will have to read me the lecture later, Lucas. I do not feel very well at the moment.” Victoria turned on her side and grabbed wildly for the chamber pot under the bed.
Lucas sighed and held her head. She was right. The lecture would have to wait.
As it turned out, the lecture was put off until the following morning. Victoria tried to avoid it entirely by waking late and announcing she would take tea in her room. But a maid arrived shortly after nine with a request from Lucas that his wife attend him in his library at ten.
Victoria briefly considered the odds of getting out of the nasty business altogether by claiming to be still indisposed from the effects of the scientific experiment, but the pragmatic side of her nature interfered.
May as well get the thing over and done, she told herself as she got slowly out of bed. She scowled as a faint headache flared behind her eyes. At least her stomach was stable again. When her maid appeared with tea, Victoria drank the entire pot and felt somewhat better.
She chose the brightest yellow and white morning gown in her wardrobe and dressed as carefully as if she were going out for a formal visit before she headed reluctantly downstairs.
Lucas rose from behind his wide desk, scanning her face carefully as she entered the room.
“Please sit down, Vicky. I must admit you are looking none the worse for wear. I congratulate you on your excellent constitution. I know several men who would be in a much less viable condition after the sort of ‘experiment’ you engaged in yesterday afternoon.”
“Scientific progress exacts a certain toll,” Victoria said with dignity as she sat down. “I am proud that I have made some small contribution to the welfare of mankind.”
“A contribution to the welfare of mankind?” Lucas’s mouth twitched. “Is that what you call it? You came home thoroughly cup-shot in the middle of the day and you tell me it was all in the name of intellectual inquiry?”
“I have done far more risky things in the name of intellectual inquiry,” Victoria retorted meaningfully. “Only consider the fact that I am married to a man who will not even let me spend my own money as I see fit. And all because I fell victim to the dangers of another sort of experiment.”
His mouth hardened into a grim line. “Do not try to deflect me by hurling old accusations. It is your behavior yesterday that is under consideration here. What, precisely, were you doing at the vicars?”
“Sampling medicinal drafts in order to log their various effects,” Victoria informed him, her chin at a haughty angle. Just let him dare to find fault with such a pure, scientific investigation, she thought wrathfully.
“And those medicinal drafts were all based on brandy?”
“No, of course not. Some of the herbs were dissolved in ale and not a few were infused with sherry and claret. We were not certain which spirits mixed best with the herbs, you see.”
“Good Lord. How many glasses of this experiment did you drink?”
Victoria massaged her temples. The headache was getting worse. “I do not remember precisely, but I am sure it is all carefully recorded in Dr. Thornby’s book of experiments.”
“The vicar and his wife were involved in this?”
“Well, actually, I fear Mrs. Worth dozed off quite early on,” Victoria said placatingly. “And the vicar had a rather large dose of one of the concoctions and went into a corner to sit facing the wall for the duration of the experiment.”
“I dread to ask what concoctions you swallowed.”
Victoria brightened. “Oh, I stuck with pure spirits the entire time, Lucas. Mine was the standard by which the effects of the other mixtures were judged. It was a very important part of the experiment.”
Lucas swore softly and fell silent. The ticking of the tall clock grew very loud in the room. Victoria began to get restless.
“I fear I shall have to lay down yet another rule for you, madam,” Lucas said at last.
“I was afraid of that.” She wanted to fight back but her head was hurting too much. She could not seem to generate any enthusiasm for the conflict. She just wanted to retreat to her bed and lie down.
Lucas ignored her morose expression, but his voice was surprisingly gentle when he explained the new rule. “Henceforth, you will not engage in any further scientific experiments without my approval. Is that quite clear?”
“As usual, you have made yourself excruciatingly clear, my lord.” Victoria rose, her head high. “Marriage is a rather dull business for a female, is it not? No adventuring, no intellectual inquiry, no fre
edom to spend one’s money as one sees fit. I wonder how women survive it for a lifetime without expiring from sheer boredom.”
She got up and went out the door.
Lucas lay in bed that night and watched the moon through his window. There had been no sound from Victoria’s room since something large and heavy had been dragged in front of the connecting door an hour ago.
He had listened to her barricade herself in her bedchamber with some annoyance. He did not like the idea of her pushing heavy objects around unaided. At the very least, she should have asked a servant to do the job. But she had no doubt been too embarrassed to have a footman or her maid participate in the small act of defiance.
On the other hand, the show of spirit was a good sign, he told himself. She was obviously feeling much better than she had that morning. Things were getting back to normal.
Normal, that is, if life with Vicky could ever be termed such.
Lucas shoved aside the covers and got to his feet.
The strategist in him knew that there had been no way to avoid the recent confrontations. Some battles were unavoidable, and when those arose, a man could do nothing except hunker down and fight.
Victoria had still not fully accepted the marriage. She was an independent, headstrong creature who had been allowed free rein for too long. Her own intelligence, her gentle instincts, and her desire not to jeopardize her aunt’s position in Society had acted as controls until he had come along.
But now Lucas knew she saw him as the one who stood in her way, the one who threatened her independence. She was torn between her feelings for him and her anger at being trapped in the marriage.
Lucas remembered all the males who had danced attendance on her in London, and groaned. She was accustomed to keeping men in their place, accustomed to being the one in command.
But he sensed, even if she did not, that one of the reasons she had been initially fascinated with him was the very fact that she could not be quite certain of her ability to control him. She was a strong woman who needed a man who was even stronger.
Having found him, she could not resist testing him.